


Après Moi

by QuietlyImplode



Category: Black Widow (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Red Room, winterwidow - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:48:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28639518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuietlyImplode/pseuds/QuietlyImplode
Summary: "You can't break that what isn't yours."Natasha goes one step too far when she's fighting with James.  Coerced by Clint and Steve, she tries to make amends. The process of apologising and making up can sometimes be tricky for spies who don't trust easy, sometimes you have to give a part of yourself.For the FYBuckyNat Secret Santa2020
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51
Collections: BuckyNat Secret Santa 2020





	Après Moi

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gr8escap](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gr8escap/gifts).



> For @steverogersnotebook / gr8escap 
> 
> I chose the prompt of post-mission emotions - I honestly meant for this to go in an entirely different way and hoped it would end more fluffy but apparently my writer-brain went in a completely different direction. I hope it has some of the elements of what you wanted!! Sorry it’s not fluffy-er.. Happy New Year!

“Nat. You need to contact him. This...” Clint gestures around to the multitude of disassembled guns in a circle around Natasha as she sits cross legged, cleaning the parts one by one, “is not healthy.”

Natasha throws him a scathing looks and doesn’t respond, soaking the inside of the barrel, and picks up the cleaning rod. 

“Nat...” Clint leaves it. 

“Just think about it, okay? Steve’s probably going to send you out together anyway, so you may as well bite the bullet.” 

She stares at him and rolls her eyes. “I shouldn’t be the one who has to apologise,” she starts. 

Clint holds his hands up, “Hey, I’m just saying. Just don’t be your usual, stubborn self.” The huff that Natasha gives, is enough to send him scurrying. 

Natasha finishes cleaning her guns, a job that usually takes 20 minutes, taking over an hour. She’s perseverating on the task, she knows, but she doesn’t want to be around James or Steve. She wasn’t wrong, she knows she wasn’t, she may have been harsh or rash and may have offended him but she’d completely do it again, given the chance. She’s angry. 

Pottering around for the rest of the evening, she makes herself dinner in her own room, self isolation better than the inevitable conflict and two-on-one that will happen in debrief.  
Sighing softly, she gets changed into shorts and a t-shirt and climbs into bed. Maybe tomorrow will be better than the last two have. 

.

Her phone chimes with the indication of a text message, as Natasha rolls over and checks it. It’s from Steve. 

_Mission, Come to Ops at 10am._  
She looks at the time. 7.30am. Rubbing her face vigorously, she drops to the floor and starts doing push ups, then sit ups and then squats. By the time it hits 8.15, she’s sweaty and ready for a shower. 

She looks at her phone again, nothing from James, nothing from Steve. _Stubborn_ , she thinks to herself, _she’s not the stubborn one._

.

She receives her mission packet from Steve and sits as far away from Bucky as she can. They don’t make eye contact, but she catches glimpses at him. He looks tired, over everything, not ready to be sent out again. The bruise above his left eye still has remnants of colour, but, she concedes, she only knows to look for it. She wants to pull his hair from his face, uncrease the worry that lines his face. She shakes her head, she's not in the wrong.

“This is fly in, fly out. There should be no risk.” Steve says, looking pointedly at Natasha. She shrugs, only half listening. Bucky, stands. 

“Is that it?” He says loudly. Steve looks over to the door. 

“Yeah. You’re leaving at 4.”

Bucky throws his chair under the table and storms out.

“Natasha, wait,” Steve asks. Internally, she cringes. Why is it that she’s always the one to get in shit for things that haven’t gone the way Steve thinks they should. Just because he’s worked with both of them he thinks he can be a mediator. 

There are just some things he doesn’t understand. 

“What?” She says, in such a way she can see Steve recoil. 

“Apologise to him?” He asks, eyes pleading.

“No.” She holds up a hand to stop the tirade she knows is coming. “No.” and stalks out before it even begins.

.

Clint’s waiting in her room when she gets back, finally having gone shopping to restock and for snacks to take with her on this supposedly easy cake walk of a mission.

“So?”

“What?” Natasha packs her bag and looks at the time. 3pm. She has an hour. 

“Apologised yet?” Clint swings on her office chair and rotates the Rubiks cube in his left hand. 

Slamming the cupboard, she groans. 

“No.” 

“Nat. You called him _comrade_ and yelled at him using phrasing from the red room.. In front of everyone.” He says, standing. Clint knows, of course Clint would know.

“Half the people in the hanger don’t even speak Russian. He needed to know that it was completely fucking stupid putting himself in danger, and even though he completed the mission, he did it, putting himself in danger- he’s lucky he wasn’t killed and it was just a fucking concussion! He was the fucking sniper and I did not need him on the ground.” Natasha blows up. Clint watches as she visibly composed herself, and then turns her back on him. 

He barely hears her as she adds in a whisper, “He can’t do that. He can’t leave.. _me_.” the last word is almost inaudible.

Clint looks at her back, notices the hitch in her words, and knows her well enough to let it go.

“Tell him that.” He says and leaves her to it.

.

It’s 3.30 by the time Natasha has pulled herself back together, decision made, she seeks him out. 

He’s down at the hanger in question, packing the sniper rifle away, watching as the case is stored. He takes one look at her and walks away. She resists doing the same.

“Yasha, wait.” She says in Russian. It’s enough to make him stop, back turned on her.

“Мне очень жаль.” She says formally.

He scoffs, and keeps walking.

She’s put off. She did it. She apologised. 

She now walks the line of going after him or leaving him be until he’s trapped with her in the jet and it’s just the two of them. Decides on the latter and puts her things away. 

She waits for him in the cockpit, playing on her phone until he finally appears at 4pm, Steve behind him. Natasha rolls her eyes. 

“Needed back up?” She mutters. 

Steve steps between them. 

“Can you complete this mission?” He asks pointedly, “I can send Clint and Maria, and leave you two to battle it out in the gym.” 

Natasha shakes her head. James copies the action and climbs into the chair next to her.

“No.” He says clearly, punching in the destination. “we’ll see you when we get back.” 

Steve pats him on the back as he turns. “Be safe and civil.” He calls and leaves the jet. 

Silence reigns as they’re cleared to leave, she doesn’t dare talk and it’s clear he doesn’t want to. She has no idea what to say next so doesn’t say anything at all.

.

By the time they’re flying over France, Natasha’s had it.

“There was this one time,” she begins, “we’d just finished training, you’d been showing me how to throw knives at a moving target and we were laughing at something..” she shakes her head with a grimace.

“I can’t remember what now, but Ivan walked in and saw us sitting and laughing. I think they knew then what they’d done, putting their two dangerous assets together; but they didn’t say anything.” Natasha sighs.

“They sent us to Leningrad the next day, to take out a politician.” She pauses.

“Do you remember this?”

James shakes his head. No, of course he doesn’t. He’s silent but wants her to continue. She never talks about the old days. It’s a gift she’s giving him, part of herself in apology and explanation.

“They set some of the others after us, we were ambushed. I think they wanted to know how far gone we were; and you… you gave yourself up for me, told them a tale which fit all the holes. They could have killed you but instead, they put you back in cryo; they couldn’t trust you; so you were wiped. Again." Natasha stares straight ahead, like she's deciding whether to continue with the rest. She takes a deep breath.

"You were gone. I was alone. It took a lot for them to trust me again; but they’d already sterilized me; and needed me to complete the honeypot missions that the others couldn’t. Your lies, they worked. You saved me. You sacrificed yourself to save me - just like you did the other day. I know it’s not the same. But it is.”

She gently touches his hand and looks at her fingers running over his skin.

“I can’t lose you again. Do you understand?”

“What did they do to you?” He asks, tentatively.

She stares at him. Not prepared to go that far down memory lane. ”What does it matter?” 

He’s unsure of whatever flashbacks she’s been dealing with, she’s triggered things for him, and he doesn’t want to forgive it, but he understands. He does; but he's also angry.

“Tell me,” he presses. 

“I was put under the command of General Olyiyev.” She says in response, head bowed, voice quiet. 

He swallows down hard. Let’s it go. Even speaking the name, is sacrifice for her; he regrets asking. 

That part of her life is taboo, only during recurrent nightmares or when she’s dissociating hard will she reveal snippets of that past. 

“It’s not ok.” He tells her, his anger dissipates. He missed her last night, despite everything, missed her body next to his, her goodnight kiss. He breathes deep and holds her hand, thumb running over hers.

“Those words, they’re mine now, you can’t repeat them, they’re not weapons to be used against me. Your point was made. I understand Natalia, I do. I did what I thought was necessary - I thought you were in more danger than you were and I understand you had it under control but it didn’t feel like it.” He holds onto her hand. “I’m not sorry for that. I can’t lose you either, don’t you see? We’re both fighting for the same thing?”

He reaches across and touches her chin, her doe eyes look into his sadly. 

“We ok?” She asks tentatively, avoiding eye contact.

He answers with a kiss, a kiss that deepens and continues until they’re both breathless. 

.

They reach France, and complete the mission in record time. They’re given exfil instructions for 48 hours and use it to their advantage, becoming tourists in a known city. 

First they visit the Christmas Markets, tour up from the Eiffel Tower and make it a game to avoid all the sellers on the side selling remote control cars, toy dogs that bark and the tiny colourful Eiffel Towers, laughing as they flit from English, to Spanish, to Italian, to Portuguese. Tension gone, conversation is easy, they fall into old patterns.

Bucky buys her mulled wine as she buys them a crepe to share. He pulls her coat over her shoulders and wraps her tighter into his body; she fits under his arm and feels the safety of his embrace. Reaching up, Natasha touches his face; traces the lines and stands on her tip toes as she kisses his cheek gently.

Bucky smiles, shadows in his eyes. She sees the hurt she put there and wants to erase it. 

“Мне очень жаль.” She apologises again. He kisses the top of her head and the start to head back to the hotel. 

“You’re ok. I’m ok. It’s not the first time we’ve disagreed.” He stops. Thinks. “Promise you won’t do it again?” 

She sees the vulnerability in that question, how much her words have power over him, the good and the bad and how much they can influence his thoughts. 

“I promise,” she concedes. 

He turns her to face him, and this time his smile contains no shadows. They walk in step with one another breathing in the cold air, lighter now than when they arrived. 

.


End file.
